


Grace under pressure

by m_findlow



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:35:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22222678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m_findlow/pseuds/m_findlow
Summary: It never pays to get too far ahead of yourself.
Kudos: 8
Collections: fic_promptly Fills 2016





	Grace under pressure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [badly_knitted](https://archiveofourown.org/users/badly_knitted/gifts).



Jack's impetuous and single minded at the best of times. He's headlong into any situation before the others have even had a chance to survey the scene and figure out what's going on. Perhaps it's not as reckless as it looks. Perhaps there's something in that fifty-first century brain chemistry that allows him to process the situation quicker than his twenty-first century cohorts, but that's just speculation. He's blundered in enough times for the team to know that he's far from perfect, even if he'll tell you otherwise.

His long great coat only adds to the drama as he bursts onto the scene, accentuating those broad shoulders, coattails flapping behind him as if it has a life of its own, adding the requisite flair that any proper hero coat should. It seems proud to carry him into danger and make him look threatening to anyone who challenges the peaceful way of life on this planet.

Sometimes though, a penchant for the dramatic can get you into trouble. As much as a long coat can whip about your legs and make you look more menacing, it's that same coat that can get underfoot. And the coat knows that despite his glorious heroism, sometimes Jack needs reminding that he's still just human like the rest of them. A little humility is good for the soul. Sometimes however, the coat picks the wrong moment to teach Jack a lesson. Today is a case in point.

It's a quiet morning, or so it seems when they glide along in the SUV, on their way to pick up some delectable treats for the team from the best bakery in Cardiff. Jack has dared Owen to beat him inside. Last one to the counter is buying. Considering his stature, Owen's small frame is still quick off the mark, but Jack knows he can make up the ground easily with his long stride. He's also not averse to diving across the three lanes of traffic to win a bet. That's when coat steps in to deliver the crushing blow.

He's thrown open the car door, oncoming traffic be damned, and thrown his right leg out the door, ready to practically jump from the vehicle like a precision athlete storming off the blocks. Then it happens. Coat wraps around his leg, restricting his movements, but the velocity and the force of the motion he's committed to have already condemned him. Instead of landing on his feet like a wily feline, he ends up tumbling to the ground in a heap, coat still maliciously tied around his lower legs.

Owen can't stop laughing. He's forgotten all about their bet because his sides are aching from laughing so much, and watching Jack having t pull himself up unceremoniously off the road.

'Last one in, buys,' Owen mocks. 'You can't even make it out of the car. I'll have a pain au choc and two jam scrolls, since it's your shout.'


End file.
